


Entropy

by HQ_Wingster



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Addiction, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Baristas, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Coming of Age, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Feelings Realization, Gen, Light-Hearted, Love, M/M, Moving On, Multi, Recovery, References to Addiction, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 22:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12198390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HQ_Wingster/pseuds/HQ_Wingster
Summary: If Yuuri bottled his life into a test tube, his old Chemistry teacher would say that he wasEntropy.One second, everything hung in the balance tied around his neck. The next second, disorder came in the form of a cup of coffee. Slid across the booth, steaming hot with a flourish of cream swirling around over a crisp surface. Yuuri picked up the cup, glancing up at the barista that had been winking at him for the past ten minutes. Their eyes met in the middle before the barista--Viktor N.--glanced elsewhere, giving Yuuri privacy when he brought the coffee to his lips. A warm touch kissed him back.If to be a success was to travel a lonely road, a travel with company held its worth in gold.





	Entropy

**Author's Note:**

> Addiction has been a real life topic that I've been wanting to incorporate into a fanfic, but it feels scary to put this out for the world to see. Because in more ways than one, an audience is seeing what my views are towards it and what I might be recovering from. But then I tell myself: 'This is a story I can relate to and there may be others who can to.'
> 
> It also helps that I've talked to a few people before writing this so that I could get my thoughts together and realize that I'm making a story that people can relate to. Addiction isn't simply about drug-abuse or gambling, and I want to introduce the other forms of addiction and how they've influenced our view of the world, our view of others.
> 
> Even though this will be heavy story at times, I want to show that a characteristic doesn't have to define who you are or how people perceive you. In response to the heaviness of this story, I am incorporating lighter, softer, and happier moments because life isn't purely positive or negative. It's a mixture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Drug-abuse with anxiety medication and self-denial of said abuse. The coping method seen in this chapter isn’t recommended, and it’s advised that you seek a health professional or several if you wish to control your medication-dose for recovery.

_ Entropy  _ is understood as the measure of disorder within a microscopic system. Within the confines of a test tube, different compounds mix to create a precipitate or perhaps, a strange odor that couldn’t be described in a little box of notes. Pencil lead dragged across a crumbled lab sheet as a bunch of Junior High students poked and measured out their solids and liquids for the fifth time this week because their teacher wanted them to see  _ true  _ Entropy.

_ True chaos in its natural state. _

Rather ambiguous for a group of pre-teens and lanky adolescents, but the students did as they were told. Other than a murky substance collecting in their test tubes and crumbling precipitates, where was the Chaos? Was it even possible to observe a concept that was naked to the Human eye? Entropy was a dynamic, so weren’t the students-- _ themselves-- _ the little bits of chaos that they were meant to observe from each other. In student-to-student terms,  _ Entropy  _ was just a fancier word for  _ Teamwork. _

To balance each other’s opposites, there had to be some leeway. But at the very same time, every student in that chemistry class strove for a good grade so they bought up the teacher’s bullshit and clicked when they had to. Once outside of the classroom, they went their separate ways and clashed, collided, and tore into the melting pot of pressures that frothed over in a social test tube.

If Yuuri was a microscopic system,  _ Entropy  _ was when his hands grew sweaty. Because he was in charge of the numbers and recording the data onto the spreadsheet on the other side of the lab paper. Because Yuuri’s lips curled when he had to erase his perfectly sketched numbers, burning the eraser-end of his pencil because he didn’t want to see a trace of his mistakes. Because whenever Yuuri leaned against the lab counters to recheck the measurements that his teammates had, a rattle of pills locked his right leg in place.

His eyes darted left and right.

No one batted an eyelash, except for him.

In the chemistry classroom by himself, Yuuri only had his thoughts, his work, and his pills. There was no one around. Squeezing his pencil with one hand, Yuuri’s other hand trailed down the length of his shirt, rested on the top of his belt before his fingers dove into a pocket and fished out his container of pills.

A pulsating rhythm pricked Yuuri’s ears, and his legs shook when he unscrewed the orange container with his fingers and dragged out two pills.  _ Just two. _

Two pills a day, but Yuuri got his medication refilled yesterday and a third of his pills were already gone. Digested and coursing through his blood, but by God they weren’t working anymore and Yuuri had to take more than he could swallow.

_ No,  _ Yuuri limited himself to just two pills. He didn’t have time for this. Someone would come. Someone would see him like this and ask him why he had medication on him. Would he bolt? Would he stand and stutter? Would he give his medication away willingly, or would he tip back the container and swallow everything before collapsing into a sweaty heap on the floor? Terrified of why he was thinking of any of this when he just needed to swallow the pills and get better.

Teeth clenched, Yuuri left for his fourth period. His container of pills stashed into his school bag so that he wouldn’t have to hear the rattles against his leg. The two pills from earlier stuffed in his mouth, hidden in his left cheek because he was afraid to swallow. His tongue poked at the pills and backed away as his saliva disolved them.

_ I don’t have a problem. _

Yuuri’s lips parted just a bit for a sigh to escape as what was left of his anxiety pills rode over his tongue and slipped down his throat. If Yuuri had paid attention, he could almost hear the pills  _ plop  _ into the acidic cauldron that was his stomach. He won’t feel the effects right away. It rarely worked like that, but just knowing that he got the pills down was enough for him.

_ I don’t have a problem. _

Yuuri took his anxiety medication. Everything was going to be okay. He had two-thirds of his pills left. When was his next refill? Yuuri calculated it all in his head and by the time he made it to his literature class, he figured that he had four more weeks.

_ I have twenty-eight days and about... _ Yuuri stretched his neck, remembering the number of pills he had before he... _ I’m okay,  _ he told himself.  _ If I don’t take my medication, I’m not going to get better. _

Yuuri’s shoulders sagged when he dropped his school bag and sat behind his desk. Resting his chin over his knuckles, watching as a few of his classmates fished for their books or looked out the window with summer’s haze over their eyes.

Yuuri turned his head, fingers drumming across his desk. Muscle memory at play as his cerebellum lit up like a star because Yuuri pictured himself playing a few tunes on his keyboard under the cloudy sun.

There was no disorder in Yuuri’s life; simply chaos picking up its strides on a fairly normal day.

It wasn’t until an autumn afternoon did Yuuri realize what  _ true  _ Entropy was. Roughly a decade after the fiasco in the chemistry room, Yuuri found himself in a new town. A bigger one with shopping complexes and towers that were just a brush away from Heaven if they dared to climb higher. Tucked behind an indoor seat at a coffee shop, sheet music sprawled across Yuuri’s surface while a pencil twirled and stabbed thin air as he nibbled on bits of a nutty muffin that he bought for himself from another cafe. Suited up in a hoodie and scarf, Yuuri glanced out the window and met a similar sky to what he saw nearly ten years ago.

Just a canvas of blue, wisped with clouds and streaks of yellow. Shadows illuminating the streets and sidewalks. A sight that was fitting to the roasted aromas that tickled patrons’ noses as a golden young woman and man served as a barista-duo for a hustling and bustling coffee shop in a quiet neck of a metropolis.

Whenever Yuuri broke his gaze from the outdoors, a pair of teal eyes would glance into his before darting away. Darting back to the mug in the barista’s hand before he whipped up a little heart over a latte’s surface.

Yuuri cocked his head before glancing back at his sheet music. Glanced back at the empty compositions that he had to finish before next week’s concert. As the lead pianist and understudy composer, this was his only objective in life.  _ Make something. _

Yuuri thought that he could get his thoughts sorted in a coffee shop, but his mind stepped back to ten years ago to when he was just learning  _ Entropy.  _ A wonderful yet invisible phenomenon that held no place in his adult-life and yet, he felt the pangs of chaos gut him with a knife because his knees shook underneath the table.

_ Withdrawal _ .

Mouth dry, tongue coarsed, and Yuuri barely had enough saliva when he licked his chapped lips. His knees buckled underneath the table. Yuuri massaged them with his free-hand, trying to work back feeling and control. Yuuri blinked like an old camcorder. Every scene burned into his memory before he rattled an orange container in his pocket. Some pebbles and sand rocked back and forth, easing control back into Yuuri’s body.

It worked.  _ For now. _

Just hearing the familiar rattle was enough for his body, but it was due for its medication. Yuuri didn’t have any pills on him. Having left them behind in Hasetsu because he knew damn well that his prescription would be done within hours. He had stronger medication now, and Yuuri wanted some control over his life. Some control after rattling orange containers for years and working through sleepless nights for compositions that weren’t going anywhere.

Yuuri slouched in his seat.

His eyes caught sight of the male barista-- _ Viktor N.-- _ staring at him again. Not a trace of disgust or fear were in Viktor’s eyes, but a friendly warmth. Almost too friendly so Yuuri busied himself with his phone when he realized that he was ogling at the man.

Not because Viktor seemed friendly and open and everything that Yuuri wasn’t, but because he looked  _ normal. _ Nothing bothered him, unlike Yuuri.

Viktor could make little hearts on top of latte cups. Yuuri could only draw and erase the mistakes on his empty composition pages because he didn’t know what to do.

Viktor had a job that he liked.

Yuuri watched as the barista bounced from one end of the serving counter to the other. Making hearts with steamed milk because it was the only design he was good at, and Mila-- _ his partner in crime-- _ knew better than to teach him new tricks now.

A charismatic aroma wafted off of Viktor and fused with the coffee he served. Bubbly smiles and a bit of an airy ditz were a few descriptions that Yuuri could say-- _ well, think. _

What did Yuuri have?

A backpack with crumpled notes and sheet music. Some toothpicks to clean the underside of his fingernails because eraser shavings usually clumped under there while he worked. Glasses that were always slipping off the edge of his nose because he...Yuuri got up and strolled over to the serving counter. He’d been here for hours. The least he could do was order something.

_ “Entropy is often referred as the ‘state of disorder.’”  _ His old Chemistry teacher droned into one ear.

Everything that defined Yuuri hung in the balance tied around his neck. Work, his family, his grades, his passion, his... _ everything.  _ Included was something that Yuuri had been denying for years:  _ addiction.  _ The one word that ran a finger down his back because it was a part of what he couldn’t run away from. Painfully so, he was addicted to the medication that was supposed to prolong his life for the better.

_ “Entropy simply measures the energy an atom or molecule disperses.”  _ Gosh, why was Yuuri remembering this now?

What did  _ Entropy  _ have to do with any of this? Yuuri wasn’t an atom nor a molecule. He wasn’t in a test tube, lifted over a bunsen burner and forced to dance to a hundred degrees celsius. Yuuri was Human, a Human born and bred into a social experiment where the gods toyed around with their compounds to make something new.

Yuuri got his first taste of chemistry in the form of a coffee cup. Slid across the wooden furnish of the serving counter. A milky heart oozing over the top before Yuuri glanced to his right and locked eyes with  _ Viktor N.  _ for perhaps the fourth or fifth time that afternoon.

Yuuri’s eyes flickered back to the hot cup of coffee before reeling back into Viktor’s gaze. Viktor lifted a shoulder, a slight tilt to his head. Flashing a simple smile, he escaped into the kitchen to give Yuuri some privacy.

Yuuri reached for the orange container in his pockets. Fingers nearly grazed the top before he pulled back and lifted the cup of coffee to his lips. A warm touch kissed him back.

_ It’s hot chocolate. _

There was no mistaking it when a feathery wave of sweetness washed the back of Yuuri’s throat and dove right into his stomach. The little dimples that used to sag his smiles rose up when instinct told him to smile. Yuuri nursed his drink until Viktor came back with fresh sandwiches, cut in a diagonal fashion before placing the plate before Yuuri. Propped his elbows on top of the serving counter and Viktor fluttered his eyelids like an old friend.

Yuuri slurped, the bubbles kissing his upper lip and popping sugar up his nose before he slammed his cup down. Harder than he meant. Running a tongue over his lips to clean off any mess, and Yuuri had a sneaking suspicion that it was the wrong thing to do. Especially when Viktor leaned a bit closer before sliding napkins towards Yuuri.

He might’ve winked, but Viktor could’ve been blinking because the sun had set before his eyes. Swirls of yellow and orange with a fragment of Yuuri’s reflection held in the eyes of the beholder.

Viktor leaned close enough where he could listen to Yuuri comfortably, but far enough where he didn’t invade into Yuuri’s personal bubble. Just a safe distance between them while Yuuri absently tapped his orange container.

_ We’re just staring at eachother... _ Yuuri brought his empty cup back to his lips. The sleeves of his hoodie sliding down to reveal the band aids coiled around his digits.

Should he cough? Talk about the weather? Yuuri had to get back to his belongings, but Viktor reached out and gently tugged the empty drinking cup away from Yuuri’s lips.

A slow blink. A pause before he parted Yuuri’s fingers from around the base. A darkening daze over his autumn weather.

_ “Are you lactose intolerant?” _

The sonnet of the autumn’s afternoon died right there.

“No.” Yuuri fingers retreated down to his hoodie’s pockets. Fingernails scraping against each other out of habit.

_ “Gluten allergy?”  _ Viktor’s eyes made a beeline to the seemingly innocent sandwich sitting between him and Yuuri.  _ “Peanut allergy?”  _ And in a hush, Viktor flicked his bangs back with his thumb.  _ “Maybe even me?” _

Yuuri pushed his glasses up, lips pressed into a fine line.  “Try soy and avocado.” 

“Try seafood.” Viktor grimaced, but his expressions were fast. Morphed from a shadow to something radiant when he drew up a stool and sat on his side of the serving counter. Glowed like a fresh brew, and Yuuri wondered if Viktor was even allowed to do this.

However, he gave Viktor the benefit of the doubt. Baristas were supposed to be friendly and sociable, so Viktor was just doing his job. Albeit, Yuuri preferred a softer spotlight than the overhanging ones that scribbled the harshest of shadows.

_ Back to square one.  _ Yuuri gulped, on the edge of his heels because silence fell over him and Viktor again. Yuuri wished that he was normal, wished that he could carry-on a conversation without resorting to  _ this: the unconventional staring, the bashful looks, and the wad of saliva lodged in the back of his throat.  _

“I'm a--I'm going to- _ -Thank you.” _ Yuuri fished for his wallet, but Viktor whispered,  _ “Don't worry about it.” _

He nudged sandwiches closer to Yuuri, and Yuuri stumbled with his words. Mumbling that he had something to take care of, but he would come back to finish the sandwiches. Yuuri promised Viktor, and the promise was etched with flames. He was scared to turn his back towards the barista because he couldn’t decipher Viktor’s blank slate until an inch of emotion peeked through from around the eyes. An emotion that Yuuri didn’t recognize, but it was a familiar splinter because Yuuri would see a similar face if he cared to look in a mirror.

“I’ve held you long enough, I think.” A heaviness to Viktor’s words when he pulled away from Yuuri’s personal bubble. The smile that had captivated Yuuri’s afternoon resembled a jagged shard when Viktor turned his head away, retreating back into the kitchens. Pulling out the laced tie behind his apron, leaving Yuuri to himself. As if he had done something wrong, but Yuuri wasn’t sure of what.

He wanted to return to his things. There was nothing wrong with that, but Viktor acted as if Yuuri had been toying with him like this was a game. A sigh escaping from his lips, Yuuri picked up his food and napkins before returning to his sunny spot by the shop’s window. Folding a napkin across his lap before he noticed calligraphy on the other side.

_ A little something to cheer you up after a nutty snack! --Viktor _

Yuuri’s muffin was already a bunch of crumbs at this point. Not worth finishing, but Yuuri sprinkled the leftovers on top of his sandwich before leading with a bite to a jagged corner. Tearing a slice of tomato and chunks of turkey along with toasted bread. His musings dragged with his chews before Yuuri swallowed and reread the note that Viktor had written to him.

Yuuri had to repay him.

When sunset came and  the coffee shop began to slow, Yuuri approached the serving counter and had a friendly chat with Viktor’s barista partner,  _ Mila B.  _ As friendly as Yuuri could make it as he quietly tapped the top of his orange container for a familiar thrill.

Mila, on the other hand, was a natural. She loosened the back of her black apron, explaining that Viktor had gone home early because of some migraines. All with a simple smile because Yuuri was a curious cat with a bell and ribbon tied around his tail.

Yuuri had never felt more guilty. To think that he was the cause of a migraine(!), but Mila reassured him that everything was going to be fine.

_ “Old Saint Vik _ can’t stay around for too long.” A comforting touch, but Mila pulled her fingers away just as the counter caught her sleeve and pulled it up. Mila crossed her arms instead. Guarded, but her stance was open and relaxed to not sway a worry from Yuuri. “Viktor goes outside to get fresh air every now and then. Probably couldn’t handle today.”

It was all she could say without intruding into Viktor’s privacy. Yuuri saw the boundary, but neither his mind or his voice cared. All Yuuri could think about about was the  _ disappointment  _ that chipped at Viktor’s composure, and Yuuri had to right to whom he had wronged. 

“Does he leave often?” Yuuri squeaked a feeble:  _ “When it’s too much?” _

Even Mila’s composure began to chip. “This might be something you want to ask Viktor,  _ personally.”  _

A yawn came over her and Mila apologized. Lackluster because she had been on her toes for around the clock and it was only now that she could rest. And here Yuuri was, almost barging into her quiet moment and putting her on the spotlight for a slippery subject. Yuuri, too, had to apologize, but his words stayed where they were because Mila was now lost in thought. Easing in and out of dreams and this reality, all while leaning against the serving counter for support.

Best to drop this conversation, seeing how it immediately died after Mila’s latest comment.

Yuuri bidded Mila a good evening, and Mila yawned back before her eyes closed and she leaned still for a long time while Yuuri gathered his things and left the coffee shop. Still wondering if he was part of the reason why Viktor had left so early. Was it Yuuri’s body-language? Did he put on a defensive, cold front?  _ Stupid. _

That wasn’t Anxiety’s voice; it was  _ Yuuri’s _ . It was his own thought and dished with it was disappointment, disappointment because he could’ve done better to get his feelings across. Yuuri buried his nails into his backpack’s straps. Anything to keep his fingers away from the orange container in his pocket.

As he walked, he saw rings of smoke puffing up from a chimney somewhere behind the coffee shop. Just an ashy haze, filtered behind dense bushes and tickling trees from a backyard garden that was the coffee shop’s life and love. When Yuuri strolled by, he heard some chirps and purrs of poultry. Some cooing from a voice and Yuuri froze.

A few words, spoken in a language that Yuuri had minored in while in Detroit. He brushed back the foliage and skinny branches, peeking into the undergrowth and found a chicken run.

Fluffy birds strutting down the length of their run, scratching their heads, and fluffing up before roosting in their evening coop. A familiar man-- _ a familiar barista-- _ lifted one of the hens and cuddled her in his arms. A tender embrace between a fragile being and another. Tickling under the hen’s wing and poking his nose against the bird’s beak to imitate a kiss because this touch, this comfort made Viktor happy.

Poking at the comb that flopped from either side when the chicken bobbed her head, eyes darting from one direction to another. Beady orange eyes targeting the random blades of grass along the ground, and Yuuri backed away ever so slightly so that the bird wouldn’t notice him.

A sweep of bangs masked half of Viktor’s face when he placed the fidgeting hen back onto the ground, and the hen rolled around before remembering where the evening coop was. A flush of pink rose behind Yuuri’s ears when he heard Viktor’s laugh.

A sly grin, a bit of a tease because Viktor chased the little chicken around and the bird squinted at him before running under his legs and dived back into the evening coop. Viktor’s cheeks flushed wine-red, completely intoxicated by a simple joy and a simple love. So much so that Viktor wanted to hold another chicken before it went to bed. Cradling it close to his chest, a tender touch for something so simple.

Yuuri pulled his hand back from the foliage and branches, watching his glimpse of Viktor disappear behind the greenery.

Yuuri had found  _ Eden: the sacred place where chaos and disorder were in harmony. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **OST:** [Here](https://joey-wingster.tumblr.com/post/165775750056/ost-1-chemistry-entropy-yuuri-had-found)

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna see chapter previews of this fic? Check out @joey-wingster and search for the tag #fanfic preview


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